


Tour De Death

by WriteMeow2



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-08-19 06:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16528943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteMeow2/pseuds/WriteMeow2
Summary: Richard returns from a stint in England with some life-changing news for Camille. A competitive cyclist's murder brings the pair closer together. Warning for mpreg!





	1. Chapter 1

| _First crack at this series. I liked it better with the original cast so that's how I've chosen to write it. Hopefully everyone enjoys._  
---  
  
* * *

The fairytale-like, five month stay in London had come to a close. Richard, regrettably flying back to the Caribbean island of Saint Marie. Their small, antiquated office relying on Poole's knowledge and skill more-so than England's higher tech department. 

Not only was he adverse on having to return to dealing with the unbearable tropic heat, bugs and forestry growing through his flooring. There was also the little matter of confronting Camille with some news. Of which sat rather heavily in his lap.

He sighs and rubs the side of his stomach whilst looking out the plane's cramped window. The surrounding of thick, white clouds made him feel like he was living out a dream.

In some aspects, he did feel as though he were living out a figment of his imagination. How did he wind up here? Carrying Camille's child, keeping it a secret for all those months?

The Detective had hoped to just remain in England for the remainder of the pregnancy. But as always, the universe had other plans.

He was already roughly a month along when he got the call to return. The unrelenting heat provided the perfect cover for his battles with morning sickness. It was simply the sun making him ill.

However, the sun would be of no help this time around. He groans, feeling the baby becoming restless and starting to kick.

It wasn't enough to cause any serious pain, however, that would soon change in about two months time. He was just about to shut his eyes and drift off when the woman next to him disrupted.

"Do you know what you're having?"

She inquired, her smile eager. If there was one thing he despised more than the heat, it was people that didn't mind their own damn business. He exchanges a fake smile before looking forward and responding.

"Twins..their names are Piss 'an Off"

The look on her face alone almost made the trip back to tropical Hell worth it. He chuckles quietly before slipping on a pair of headphones and dozing off.

* * *

He informed the team, Camille included, to stay put. He'd be taking a cab to the station. Mulling over exactly how he was going to break it to the fellow Detective she was going to be a mother.

"You likin' the island, sir?"

The cabbie's Jamaican laden accent breaking through, also breaking Richard from his thoughts.

"Yes, lovely"

He counters in short. He was too preoccupied with what was going on currently to focus on anything else. They finally arrive at the station. The Detective making sure his suit jacket covered his midsection enough until he was ready to make the announcement.

"Good 'tah have ya back, chief"

Dwayne grinned and patted him on the back. He tried to not make it glaringly obvious that he hated the whole touchy-feely business.

From the corner of his eye he see's Fidel coming towards him. Arms outstretched as if ready for a hug. He throws up the palms of his hands.

"Nice to see you, Fidel. No hugs though, please"

He stops in his tracks and chuckles a bit. "Yes sir". He readjusts his suit before asking the men "have either one of you seen Camille?" He notices Fidel chuckle again and states.

"She's actually behind you, sir"

He whips around to notice her standing there. A broad smile, donning a floral pattern top and white capris.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Her inquiry sounding almost innocent. "Ah yes, right", he muttered in haste. Excusing himself from the two men and having him and Camille step outside.

She brushes a strand of wavy black hair behind her ear. He sighs and looks out towards the ocean. Any sort of distraction was welcoming to keep him from having to admit the truth, but it had to be done.

"Do you recall that night we were together shortly before I was to leave for London?"

He notices her smile once again, "yes, of course" she replies, but appearing lost as to how this was relevant to anything. He sighs once more before parting his suit jacket. Hearing her let out, what sounded like a gasp upon seeing his stomach in full view.

"I brought you out here to tell you..you're going to be a mother"

 


	2. Chapter 2

"I..I'm not sure what to make of this"

She stammers anxiously. The response was to be expected, it wasn't realistic to think she would be fine with news of this nature suddenly dumped on her after a combined 6 months of not knowing a thing.

"Sorry I didn't break this to you sooner. I just didn't.."

"Chief, we have'a-"

Dwayne unwittingly interrupts. Not only pausing because of the looks he received from Camille and his superior. But also catching a brief glimpse of Richard's burgeoning midsection. He sighed, but figured there was no point in keeping the jacket buttoned any longer.

"What is it, Dwayne?"

He asks irritably. Eyes shifting over to Camille, arms at her sides. Still unsure of what to say next.

"Yeah, ah, sorry, but we have'a body at de Saint Marie bike race"

"Bike race? (Richard repeated and looked on skeptically) isn't that a bit...juvenile?"

Dwayne and Camille share in a bit of a chuckle before she goes into detail of the competition.

"lt's like Saint Marie's version of Tour De France, much of de island is French, so..."

"That'll do for the history lesson now, Camille. Thank you"

Richard interjects with an open palm held up and out. She knew how much her fellow Detective was set-off by the mention of anything French. So pushing his buttons every now and then was entertaining to say the least.

"You need to take it easy, we can handle it"

Camille comments, glancing over in Richard's direction. If looks could kill, the body count would be higher than one, judging from his reaction.

"Camille, I'm perfectly capable of handling this myself..I'm pregnant, not disabled"

At that very moment, Richard wanted nothing more than for the island to inexplicably sink into a watery grave. He shut his eyes, loathing himself. He hadn't even realized Dwayne was still standing by the doorway. Hearing all that was said.

"Ah, congrats, chief! Sooo..when's de big day?"

Dwayne asks with a grin. He really just wanted for the subject to be dropped, but seeing as there was still 3 more months left. There wasn't much of a point to continue dodging it. He sighs.

"December 10th, somewhere around there..'an don't go blabbing to the entire bloody island about it"

Dwayne raises a stiff right hand to his forehead in a saluting manner.

"Ah, no problem, chief"

With that, he disappears back inside the small Honoré station. He hears Camille suddenly chuckle softly.

"It's gonna be a wild few months"

"That it is indeed" he adds with a long exhale.

* * *

The team arrive at the scene of the event. A man lie dead near the starting line. Navy blue helmet, complete with a lighter blue and red nylon cycling attire. A few gray tented booths strewn about.

What seemed particularly odd was the absence of his bike. Only a worn water bottle by his side. Suddenly, a young woman in a red silk top and jean shorts (leaving little to the imagination), materializes.

"He..he was my husband"

She sobbed. Camille tried her best to comfort her. Meanwhile Dwayne and Fidel were busy gathering witness statements and any evidence that would hopefully lead to catching their killer and cracking the case. He orders Fidel to bag the water bottle and dust for prints.

Out the corner of his eye, he see's a man acting rather suspiciously by one of the tents. He sighs then trudges over to ask him a few questions. He holds up his police shield and introduces himself.

"Detective Inspector, Richard Poole. Have a few questions for you, if you can spare a minute"

"Actually, I am a bit preoccupied at the moment. Can this wait?"

His manner was curt and tone impertinent. Not exactly helping his case to rule him out as a suspect. Poole lets out an exasperated exhale and attempts to continue.

"Well murder can't, now..I'd suggest you cooperate or I'll have you arrested for obstruction in a murder invest.."

"All right, all right"

He cuts Richard off, finally deciding to make a smart move for once and work with the investigators. His voice suggested Cardiff region of the U.K. Probably here on holiday or..something else.

"Name's Tom Hughes, I'm, well, was, the victim's sponsor. Drake was considerin' retirement the following year at my insistence"

_Hmm_ Poole hummed _._ Making a mental note and writing it down for later.

"And why were you so hung up on early retirement?"

"Oh, y'know how it goes (scoffs), he wasn't gettin' any younger"

The Detective raises a brow suspiciously.

"Really? Because according to our findings, the victim was only 26 years old"

Richard was just about to press on further when Camille suddenly appeared beside him.

"Any luck?"

She leans in slightly and whispers. He shakes his head. His feet and back were starting to ache so he thought it best to wrap things up now. Camille appearing when she did being an unknown blessing in disguise.

They thank Hughes for his time and retreat back to the rusted, sun bleached Land Rover. Camille slides into the driver's side, flashing an almost _knowing_ look towards Richard.

"I don't trust him"

She said, an edgy tone to her voice. The Detective shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The heat combined with the extra weight made him feel like he was in his own amped-up version of Hell. He sighs.

"I don't either, if I'm honest"


	3. Chapter 3

"Okay, our victim (slaps photo on the whiteboard) Drake Anderson, 26, has been on the professional circuit for five years now. No criminal background as far as we're aware"

Richard briefed his 3-person team. He turns and nods his head towards Camille as a sort of visual cue to take over. Once again, it was becoming a chore to stand for too long.

She chuckles and gets up from her chair, making her way over to the board. Much to the relief of the D.I., basically collapsing in his own at his desk. Looking over to see Camille shake her head and crack another chuckle.

"I'm so glad my misery amuses you. Perhaps you'd like to swap for swollen ankles, capricious bladder and an insolent houseguest"

Dwayne couldn't help but curl his upper lip in disgust. He'd rather not hear of his colleagues erratic waste-managing organs. She rolls her eyes.

"You're being so dramatic"

She teased concerning his bemoaning. He casts her a look but didn't feel the need to carry on with their little charade. She clears her throat and tacks another photo to the board.

"Amy Anderson, 24, wife of de deceased. Works out of home, got involved with various companies. Basically a, how you say?, pyramid scheme?"

Richard nods and sighs loudly.

"Ah yes, the bored housewife trying to turn a profit from overpriced rubbish. What about our "stress-ridden" sponsor?"

Camille's eyes suddenly perked up. As if she had just discovered the answer to a long, enigmatical mystery.

"Tom Hughes, 55. Originally from the U.K. but moved to Saint Marie permanently back in 2012. Takes on seasoned athletes as well as newcomers. Prior for assault 3 years ago"

Richard raises a brow curiously.

"Seems that Mr. Hughes conviently forgot to mention that when I spoke to him. As they always do"

The sarcasm in his tone now heightened. Just then he catches Fidel coming towards his desk with a couple folders in hand.

"Toxicology and coroner's reports just came back, sir. Both confirm our suspicions, victim died of strychnine poisoning"

"Good work, Fidel. However our million dollar question is, how did our killer manage to get a hold of it?"

He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, shutting his eyes. Despite the fan it did little to keep him content. Especially considering his current state. Camille takes notice of his malcontent and makes her way over.

"Would a tea at my mother's make you feel better?"

His eyes lazily flicker open. Making a groaning type sound before picking up the perspiring bottle of water off his desk and placing it firmly against his forehead.

"Perhaps. Its the least you can do for putting me in this state in the first place"

Again she rolls her eyes and chuckles. Smacking him lightly on the shoulder.

"That is not all my fault you know"

Richard even manages a small smirk.

"You're French, Camille. One of these days you'll just have to accept it'll always be your fault"


	4. Chapter 4

Catherine's bar was a popular spot amongst the locals, even those on extended vacations. Camille's mother was hospitable, charming even. Her bar laying its roots in the Caribbean island since the late 90's. Camille and Richard take a seat at one of the small tables nearest the ocean.

Sounds of gulls screeching overhead and indistinct chattering from the surrounding couples. Within a matter of minutes, Richard predictably starts griping. Camille sighs, shaking her head and laughs.

"Y'know, you're gonna have to get used to this eventually. You still have three more months left to go"

The D.I. lets out an irascible groan and shoots her an irked glance.

"God, don't remind me"

She notices her mother approaching their table and swiftly lays a hand over his. Her face bursting into a grin.

"My mother's coming! We should tell her about de baby"

A look of panic washed over the Englishman. Under no circumstances, ever, did he want the bar owner knowing of their situation. However, taking into consideration this was the mother of his child seated across from him. Combined with the fact that, even if he never admitted it, he loved this woman. He figured he could bite the bullet and go along with it, for her.

"And how are you two this evening?"

She inquired once reaching the couple. Richard simply nodded and mumbled a "good", whilst Camille was a bit more high in spirits. She patted the D.I.'s hand and smiled.

"Great, maman! Well, more than great, actually.."

"Oh?" the older woman exclaimed in short.

"We're havin' a baby!"

Catherine was so caught up in the announcement that she failed even attempting to catch the drink tray as it fell. Hand flew over her mouth, eyes lit up. Soon both mother and daughter wrap each other in a hug. The bar owner overwhelmed with jubilance. Meanwhile, Richard was now regretting for ever having gone along with this.

"C'mon, Richard..stand up so I can see you"

The older woman pleads. Eyes still vibrant from the news. He still was very much adamant towards this nonsense. But again, it was for Camille. He groans, getting to his feet. Catherine gasps in awe.

"Look at you, Richard! 'tis wonderful. May I feel my grandbaby?"

His eyes went wide. This was getting ridiculous. He didn't like people touching him, especially now.

"I'd rather you didn't"

He then catches a quick glimpse of Camille giving him a stern look before clearing her throat. "Fine, make it quick" he continued exasperatedly. She unwittingly let out a small shriek of delight as her hands flew to his abdoman. Richard sighs.

"Naturally, the one time you try to get him to move and he doesn't"

He said, agitation bordering his tone. Catherine moved her hand to his side and replied softly.

"You are forgetting I am de baby-whisperer"

He rolls his eyes as Camille lets out a hearty laugh. But all be damned, no sooner had she uttered such lunacy did, in fact, the baby give a light nudge in response. Again, another gasp from Catherine.

"Oooh, looks like my grandson will need a pair of soccer cleats"

She jests. Richard on the other hand, wasn't finding the humor in this particular situation. Camille could tell he had his fill of touchy-feely for one lifetime and asked if they could get Richard's tea to-go. As her mother leaves to fetch the hot beverage, he turns and shoots Camille a look that she swore bore holes.

"Let this be known right now, Camille Bordey. There will be no more children after this..deal?"

Her head tilts back in laughter and she lays a hand on his shoulder.

"deal"

* * *

The couple arrive back at the station to see the Commissioner standing beside the whiteboard. His expression liken to a bulldog. Richard could never tell if he was in a good mood or not.

"Inspector, I don't know if you've noticed. But we have an active crime investigation. Do you really find it necessary to break away for high tea?"

The portly man had a way of getting underneath Richard's skin. Though, it was in his best interests not to argue with someone of his caliber. Camille, however felt a pang of guilt and rushed to his defense.

"Sir, it wasn't his fault. I suggested de tea, and de case is still very early"

It appeared as though he still wore a slight scowl and raised a brow.

"I see..make sure I'm informed of any new developments"

With this he begins departing. Dwayne, of course, not forgetting to acknowledge him with a salute and "Commissioner" from his desk, as the man neared the door. It was then, the D.I.'s midsection caught his attention.

"Inspector.. I would think you of all people would know the importance of keeping within a certain 'weight range' concerning your job"

Right away he could hear Dwayne unsuccessfully try and stifle his laughter. Camille wide-eyed, not believing what she had just heard. Oh, the things he could say. If his job weren't at stake he would. He bit his tongue briefly before responding.

"Well sir, with all due respect. Pregnancy makes keeping within that "range" rather problematic. Wouldn't you agree?"


	5. Chapter 5

Poor Richard 😂

* * *

The station hadn't had a case span beyond less than a week since D.I. Charlie Hulme was head of an investigation that stretched nearly 3 years. The Commissioner practically breathing down their necks didn't help matters any.

They had interviewed two others in connection with Anderson's death. His team mate, Nate Mills and personal trainer, Simone Landon, apart from their victim possibly having an affair with the trainer. There was really nothing solid for them to work off of. Astonishingly, nearly 7 weeks had passed with the team hitting nothing but dead ends. Camille grazed over the suspects bank statements and phone records until hearing Richard let out an irascible groan.

"Camille, how am I expected to get any work done when your son is treating my insides like a bloody soccer ball?"

She looks up from the papers littering her desk, chuckling briefly before responding with a crossed expression.

"Ah, he's yours too, y'know?..Why are you putting de blame on me?"

Even though her reply sounded rather heated and chiding, she still managed a small smile in his direction. The Inspector sighs before bringing his faithful water bottle to his forehead.

"Once again, Camille. The French thing, that's why"

-— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— -— - -—

It was nearing evening and the team had exhausted all efforts in wrapping the case up. It would just have to wait, once more, another day. Much to the dismay of everyone and the mounting frustration surrounding their Administrative Head. Fidel gathers his things and waves a "goodbye" towards the others.

"Night, Chief"

Dwayne's voice swiftly follows. It was just him and Camille left in the station. The inside remaining mostly dark, apart from a couple desk lamps and the bits of light from a setting sun filtering in. She flashes him a bit of a cheeky smile.

"So, what are your thoughts on me spending the night, tonight?"

Her tone almost as encapsulating as her expression. He raises a brow inquisitively. Heart starting to race with a surge of emotion. He'd never really felt this before, then again. He hadn't had to deal with pregnancy hormones taking the helm and at times, reducing him to feeling nothing more than a mutt to a trouser leg.

"I'd say I believe that can be arranged"

He smirks. One thing he'd dare actually label as an "upside" concerning his condition was how freeing in letting go some of his inhibitions. He even walked into the ocean up to his ankles a week prior. The couple retreat back to the "Shack". Finally a light, refreshing Caribbean breeze passing through. As expected, Harry, the Shack's own live-in resident lizard. Scurried across the porch's' sun-bleached railing. Briefly flicking his small pink tongue out towards the couple, unwavering beady eyes. Camille chuckles. The D.I. sighing rather playfully before sparing a glance in the reptile's direction.

"A little privacy, please?"

It was as if the small, green creature comprehended his every word. Flicking that bullet-like tongue out once more before darting away for good. A smile still lingered on her face, as she was already in the process of undressing. Within a matter of minutes she was standing before him in nothing but a bra and panties.

"Ready when you are"

She winks before climbing into the spacious bed. Richard isn't too far behind, abandoning his dress shirt and slacks to the old wooden floor. Now donning only boxers. It was rare she saw him in anything less than his pajamas (with the exception of the night of their son's conception, of course). He eases himself onto the bed, careful to not accidentally jostle the baby awake. This, surprisingly enough, was executed successfully.

He leans over her gingerly. Feeling her hot breath on the nape of his neck. Passionate gazes exchanged as the intimacy between them intensified. She smiles warmly as his lips press into hers, suddenly he feels a tiny foot strike out on his left side. He pauses before closing his eyes and sighing loudly. Her looking on in perplexity. He then slowly opens them and shoots a vexed glance down towards his stomach, grousing as his short fuse was now no more than a wick.

"Rude reptilians and even ruder fetuses"


	6. Chapter 6

_Just in time for Christmas. Chapter 6! My goal is to have this completed before the New Year. Reviews_ _are much appreciated. Enjoy!_

* * *

The smell of salty sea air walfted its way through the small Honoré station. Nearly giving Richard a headache. Despite intrusive lizards and sprightly unborn, he and Camille had a rather surprisingly splendid evening. His eyes lazily graze over the computer screen in front of him.

Making sure to be vigilant of any possible will or life insurance policy the victim may have had. Their cases never exceeded a week at most. So why was this particular one such a convoluted endeavor? Shortly after, Richard could feel his son starting to stir. He exhales sharply, muttering a few obsenities under his breath.

"You wouldn't mind if I gave your tenant an early eviction notice would you?"

This rather darkened humor inquiry directed towards Camille. She shoots him a look before the corners of her mouth pulled into a smirk.

"I don't think so. You've only 7 weeks left. You'll manage"

He sighs. Yes, he could undoubtedly "manage". He just would rather not have to. The aching back, chaotically dispersed hormones and a constant body temp liken to an incinerator. He loved his son, of course. It was the causatum of said pregnancy he'd rather do without.

Fidel looks up from his desk, sympathetic eyes traveling over to land on his superior. He clears his throat briefly before speaking.

"Sir, if it's any consolation. I felt de same way when carryin' my daughter. It's tough, I know. But worth it"

His face breaks into a warm-hearted grin recalling the day of her birth. He chuckles a bit when also recalling Dwayne was left having to tackle their murderer single-handedly. Whilst the young man attempted calming himself after his water broke and to try and breathe through an incoming contraction. Dwayne pipes up with a bit of a laugh from his desk.

"Ah yes, I remember dat quite well. Wasn't sure if we was gonna make it or not"

Both officers exchanged knowing glances before chuckling. Richard on the other hand was less than amused by it all. Yes, Fidel's heart was in the right place but, that wasn't going to alleviate his issues. He hears Camille rather prominently clear her throat and eyes like a scolding mother bore into him. He sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Appreciate it, Fidel. I'll muddle through"

It now seemed as though she was satisfied enough to carry on with her day. That brazen smirk reappearing. They hear what sounded like footsteps outside the station before setting eyes on the rotund Commissioner. Seeing as this was one of those rare cases that was drawn out, meant his appearances were now more frequent.

"Any headway, team?"

The man inquired. The group went silent, unsure of how to answer. Richard figured since he was core Investigator of the team, it was partly his responsibility to take initiative when others couldn't (or in this case, wouldn't).

"Making progress, sir. Still putting pieces together"

He hears a hmm escape the man's lips. It seemed he wasn't very pleased with this response. Richard watches as his intimidating eyes scan the room. Not entirely sure what was to happen next.

"I see..Well, see to it those pieces are put together soon. The longer this spans, the worse the reflection is on dis island"

All four collectively nod their heads.

"Do our best, sir"

He gives the station a final visual sweep before departing. His team appearing as though they were at the edge of their seats, but now could finally relax.

"Dat man will be de death of me one day"

Piped Dwayne. Usually, anything spoken by Dwayne had a not so subtle, joke-ish nuance. This however, no one was quite sure. As to be expected, not much progress was made, as it was nearing towards evening. So all agreed, once again, to start fresh on it the next day.

* * *

Richard basically collapsed into the expansive bed once foot was set back in the _Shack_. Watching as his son's limbs had contorted the surface of his stomach. He sighs before a small smile makes its way gradually upon his face.

"You're going to be a handful, aren't you?"

This was answered by a swift kick briefly protruded from the center of his dome-like midsection. He winces slightly before suddenly hearing Camille's sweet voice from the weather-worn porch. She makes her way over towards the bed and sits on the edge near her heavily pregnant lover. Relishing in this time spent together. She gives a low chuckle. Her hand lightly caressing the area their son was most active.

"Must get it from his maman"


	7. Chapter 7

_This was going to be a 2-parter. But I decided to combine a 7th and 8th chapter into a final one. Thank you to all those that read & reviewed! Happy New Year!_

* * *

 

It was hard to fathom that Richard was now less than two weeks away from giving birth. Things becoming a bit more on edge and suspenseful. The team had launched into full-scale "baby watch", much to the D.I.'s opposition. He saw it as rather inane, surely his son wasn't going to make his debut right, then and there.

And just when it seemed this case had died along with their victim. They finally got their big break. Richard studied a particular photo hung from the whiteboard. A photo of the poisoned water bottle. His eyes grew wider once realizing what he'd stumbled across.

"Ah ha!"

He exclaims. Striking anxiety riddled fear into his colleagues. Dwayne practically jumps from his desk, narrowly escaping injury.

"You need an ambulance, Chief?"

Appearing almost irritated that his concentration had been broken he dared a look in the constable's direction. It took a second or two for his brain and words to work cohesively.

"What?..no, but I think I finally just solved the case."

He orders Dwayne and Fidel to fetch the suspects and have them meet at the area the race had formally been held when they first initiated their investigation. Camille smiles, briskly getting up from her chair to join Richard. Her hand traveling to rest on his massive stomach. She chuckles a bit.

"Hopefully he can hold out until after we wrap this up"

She quips. He snorts lightly at this and finds his hand overlapping hers.

"And if not, it isn't too imperative. He's French, so chances are he'll wave the white flag halfway through. At least buying me some time" (As to be predicted, this earned him a well deserved smack on the shoulder).

* * *

"So what's this all about?!"

Came Hughes' agitated ridden words. He, along with three others were seated underneath a multi-use pavilion. Both team mate and trainer appearing bored out of their skulls. So too, seemingly was the wife. Richard lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Your dead sponsor. Don't tell me you've forgotten"

"Pretty easy 'tah do when you coppers take months to conclude things"

He counters with a bite. Richard notices Camille roll her eyes at this.

"Ah, yes. I hadn't factored in your impeccable law enforcement knowledge. How foolish"

Richard chimed sardonically. He could see the man's frustration mounting. Moments later hearing a loud sigh escape the wife.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Anderson. Are we boring you?"

Richard's unabated sarcasm struck again.

"Who the Hell are you to speak to me like that?!"

She practically lept from her chair. Forcing Camille to restrain her with both hands planted firmly on her shoulders. Richard cocks a brow and proceeds with their theory/conclusion. Not a moment too soon, either. In the seconds following a dull pain coursed through his abdomen. A hiss escapes his lips and he shuts his eyes momentarily in an effort to just see this this case through.

"Drake Anderson was gaining attention from other promoters. I could imagine for a man with a prior for assault, this didn't set well.."

"I didn't kill him!"

Hughes' voice boomed. Dwayne, with arms folded, flashed him a visual warning before being foolish enough to continue. He takes heed and sits himself back down. Again, another wave of pain washed over him. This time, attracting the attention of Camille. Making her way over, concerned. He waves her off and attempts to continue.

"I didn't say you did, Mr. Hughes"...(His eyes traveling to land upon Amy)..I"m saying that Mrs. Anderson did"

The woman's eyes practically bulged from her skull. Even laughing a little.

"What?!.. this' lunacy..why would I want to kill my own husband?!"

Richard, donning a self satisfied smirk, produced a photo of the infamous water bottle.

"See?..that's what was stumping us as well. Until we happened across your financial records. He was worth more dead to you than alive".. (Points to the photo) the final nail in hubby's coffin was this seemingly innocent water bottle found at the scene. A water bottle *you* made"

Expecting outrage and unrelenting defiance, they were met with an individual experiencing a heaping dose of repercussion. Within moments she was reduced to nothing but a sobbing mess.

Camille signaling for Dwayne to make an arrest. However, in the midst it seemed the product of Richard and Camille's love couldn't hold out any longer. He doubles over. Instantly sparking panic inside her.

"We're gettin' you to the hospital now!"

What was once somewhat orderly was now chaotic. The attending officers were ordered to takeover and oversee arrest proceedings while the team made a beeline to the hospital.

Camille ready to throw the D.I. from the moving vehicle with his incessant bitching. Although given the circumstances. This was to be expected.

"This' all your fault" he growled from the passenger seat. She shot back with a look that instantly made him fearful to continue to make a sound. Even in the midst of contractions.

The team arrive at the hospital with Dwayne and Fidel following shortly after on motorcycle and sidecar. Camille never setting eyes off him. Her hand enveloped in his. The sounds of a heart monitor and overall hospital goings on. They had performed an emergency c-section.

Richard slowly and blurry opening his eyes to see Camille holding a tiny blue bundle.

"Someone wants to see you"

She cooed softly and proceeded in gingerly laying their wary son in his arms. He squirmed slightly before opening his beautiful chocolate colored eyes. Richard felt his entire heart explode from his chest.

He was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Thick, dark hair slicked back. He smiled fondly at the infant. Rocking him gently before peering up at Camille.

"Benjamin Cameron Poole"


End file.
